“Oh, is that all?” Calleigh resumed her plod toward the hotel.
“Aye. Now, tell Muriel what twist you have wound yourself into this time.”
Calleigh dumped the mess at Muriel’s feet. After five minutes of babble, she finally paused for a breath.
“Ok. First, talk to Dixon. Properly. If you need a job, why put up with all that? March down to the local comprehensive school. If what Dix says is true, you’re better at maths than the rest of them. The ones with brains will get out of the way and let you get to it. Figure out what you want, then do that.”
“Damn the consequences?”
“Exactly.”
***
Calleigh blew out a calming breath as she looked at herself in the mirror. She knew what she wanted. There was a strong urge to give into the fear, to change her mind again and take the easy way out. But she was determined not to do it, not this time. She picked up her purse and walked out the door. It was time to have the conversation which would determine the course of the rest of her life.
***
They sat across a small, dark wood table from one another, the fingers of her right hand clasped in the fingers of his left. Outside the window next to the table, the lamps which lined the path next to the River Ness flickered on. Neither of them knew what to say, so they said nothing beyond placing their order with a passing waitress.
The silence became awkward before either of them started to speak.
“I talked to an estate agent,” said Dixon.
“So, did I.”
“You did?” he looked confused and then plowed on, “Well, I can’t sell the shop.” He had not meant to blurt it out, but there it was.
“I know.” She studied the tablecloth, tracing the pattern with the left hand. “It would be like selling a part of yourself. The work you’ve done here, I can’t ask you to leave that.”
He leaned forward, half across the table. “Did you say you talked to an estate agent?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Can’t say it went well.”
“Oh. Right.” He sat back again. “Caiden and Ms. Teasel were going to try to buy the shop.”
“Really?” She lit up as she looked up at him.
He swallowed hard. “They were pretty relieved not to have to.”
“The Ladies?”
“Chucked a tray full of dinner rolls at me.”
She choked back her laughter, then shook her head. “I need to know what you want.”
Dixon’s grip on her fingers tightened as he looked at the window. “I’m sorry, but I’m selfish. I want it all,” he looked down at the tablecloth for a moment then looked Calleigh in the eye. “I want you. I want the shop. I want Scotland. I want you to be happy, and I want you to stay, and I want to go with you if you leave, and…Everything. I want everything.” His jaw clenched. “And that’s not possible, is it?”
Her eyes welled-up, but she laughed. “I’ve been kicking myself. I’ve changed my mind a hundred times since I saw you standing behind the counter with my credit card in your hand. Stay. Go. No, stay.” She swallowed. “We want the same things. I love you more today than I did ten years ago.”
“Please stay.”
“Yes.”
He was across the table, her head captured between his hands, his lips on hers even as her answer still hung in the air. He pulled a fraction of an inch away. His lips brushed against hers as he said, “I love you, Calleigh R. McCabe.”
“Isn’t that nice? Now you want to move yourself so’s I can set down this pizza?” The waitress looked as testy as she sounded.
“Oh, yeah, right. Sorry,” Dixon said as he re-took his seat. To Calleigh he said, “So what do we do now?”
"Eat some pizza, drink some beer, and then go back to my hotel room," said Calleigh.
Dixon smirked as he said with a shrug, "All right." Then a huge smile stretched across his face. "That sounds brilliant."
Epilogue
It took eight weeks to clear out.
Calleigh handed in her notice at Commonwealth the day after she returned. Two weeks later, she sailed out on an exit interview high, and dropped the box of things from her office in a trash can. She had turned down the job offer from the Scottish energy company. It was time to put that teaching degree to work.
With Dixon’s help, she Ebay-d, donated, garage sale-d and purged possessions until she was down to the few things she wanted to take with her back to Scotland.
They booked their return flight and crossed their fingers the house would sell and close before they were due to leave. It came in just under the wire, the house closing the day before their flight. They drove from the closing to a dealership, they sold Calleigh’s car, then took a taxi back to the hotel room they had booked for the night.
***
They were early for the flight. Through the crowded airport they weaved, hand-in-hand, both strangely quiet as they made their way to the gate.
When the flight number was called, Calleigh looked from her magazine to Dixon with a huge smile. “Are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.” His smile was a mirror of hers.
“Let’s go home.”
THE END
Welcome to Zombie Island
Natalie Nixon
Copyright ©2015 by Cynthia Wilde. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic of mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Thank you so much for your interest in my work! Please
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER ONE
Club SINZ was celebrating its grand opening, and had pulled out all the stops to make their first night in business a memorable one. The place was packed with everyone from porn stars to rich losers to travel writers, all desperate to be part of the Caribbean's newest adult getaway. Club SINZ's advertising promised to make the Hedonism resorts look like a church picnic. Among the guests was a contingent of Estonian tourists, who not coincidentally, just happened to be beautiful, open-minded, and available women. The owners had clearly "stocked the pond" with professionals to ensure their initial guests left with fond memories - and maybe a few painful urinary tract infections as well.
Cass Bauer, the main bartender was more interested in the clock than the crowd. She had important plans tonight that didn't involve Club SINZ. The last month of opening preparations had been chaotic, forcing her to work endless hours. Being an army veteran she had leadership skills, which had inspired management to entrust her with more responsibilities than the usual mixologist. She'd practically built the main bar as well as helped with everything from overall renovations to the hiring of local staff. SINZ was the first American business to open on Isla de Tortura, so the Caribbean locals eagerly lined up for the relatively high paying jobs. Two dollars and twenty-seven cents an hour represented big money on Tortura.
Designed like a wagon wheel, Club SINZ had a central pool, surrounded by small cabanas. Tucked behind those were the VIP cabanas, which of course came with private Jacuzzis. The largest building held the dining hall, indoor bar and the industrial sized kitchen facilities. There was a band pavilion and even a miniature golf course. The abundance of outdoor bars guaranteed liquor would always be within staggering distance.
Cass worked the main patio bar. She also taught windsurfing and kickboxing on the beach, but since the clientele lived on
a diet of alcohol, frozen shrimp and pharmaceuticals, the turnout for physical fitness had been… underwhelming. But her time at the beach hadn't been a waste, because that was where she had met Talin, who was, of all things, the island's Voodoo Priest. At first she had been understandably wary of him. Talin had to be the most eccentric person she'd ever met, and that was saying something. You might wonder what an ex-military bartender had in common with an islands-raised witch doctor, and you would be surprised. Chemistry can go a long way. Over the course of a few weeks she'd happily become his lover as well as his pupil, of all things. If her current infatuation held, she planned to stay on the island with Talin for the rest of her life. It was a big change of plans, but she was impulsive like that. She’d been getting by like that for years and it always seemed to work out, so she wasn’t worried about it. She was actually pretty excited about the future.
Initially Cass planned to kill a few months on Isla de Tortura, and then drift on to the next spot that held her interest. Keep moving and don't tie yourself down had become her mantra since leaving the military. Her first months in the civilian world had been dicey though. Without the boundaries of military life her behavior had gotten reckless and out of control. The endless parade of anonymous sexual encounters and all night drinking binges had gotten more and more extreme as time went on. None of it so much as put a dent in the pain that enveloped her though. She had actually been trying in vain to envelop herself in a nice cushion of emotional numbness, but to no avail. Eventually she had had to acknowledge that Post Traumatic Stress Disorder was really “a thing”, that she had it, and that it wasn't going away on its own. Once she had acknowledged and begun to face it, she'd come a long way in just a few months. Her drinking was almost nonexistent; she'd stopped banging nameless losers and, most amazingly, hadn't beaten the shit out of anyone in a month or more. But the customer leaning on the bar at that moment was really challenging her on that last note at the moment.
He was an oily looking guy, who clearly bought his way into the grand opening. They probably had charged him double. He was definitely a beta male who bought his clothes in the alpha male store. From the moment he had approached the bar, he'd been finding excuse after excuse to make casual contact with Cass' hands. He also kept offering to buy her drinks. Maybe he hadn’t noticed that she was the bartender and already had access to any drink she wanted. Fucking idiot.
"So what time do you finish up here?" he asked, for the sixth time.
Amazing, she thought… in what he should have identified as a perfect storm of women with high blood alcohol and low self-esteem, this jackass fixates on the one woman he can't have. Cass counted backwards in her head, engaging an old trick she often used to diffuse the inner rage this guy seemed intent on releasing.
"I'm on until eight, and then I have someplace to be."
"You should be with me, I've got plenty of booze, a little 420 and more… if you’re into a little P&P?"
"P&P?"
"’Party and play’ babe, the only way to fly." He discreetly held up a little baggie of either cocaine or meth.
Cass casually reached over to a bowl, picking up two walnuts with a showy flourish of her hand. She put her hand in front of the jerk's face and squeezed, crushing the nuts easily. He got the message.
"Um, I guess I’ll go check out the Jacuzzi for a bit," He said back peddling away from the bar.
"Good idea," Cass responded flatly, tossing the walnut shards into the trash. Who the hell ate walnuts in the tropics anyway?
The fleeing jerk bumped into Jack Godwin, an alleged travel writer who asked way too many questions to be writing for Travel and Leisure. He was intelligent, and good-looking in a rough Sean Bean kind of way. But Cass had been watching him long enough to see through his travel writer facade.
"Hey Cass, how's your night going?" Jack asked, smiling. He had brilliant green eyes with a penetrating gaze that never wavered. When he asked a question he heard your answer, but also seemed to know immediately whether you were hiding something else or not. "Can I get another house special?"
The house special was a "Mai Tai" rip-off that contained enough sweet fruit juices to hide the rotgut liquor that gave it its punch.
"No Problem Jack," Cass said, breaking the house rules by using a non-toxic brand of rum. This was Jack's third drink, but she'd seen him leave the other two, mostly intact, on empty tables. She surmised that Jack wanted to fit in with the drunks while staying sober and alert. Travel writer my ass, she thought. He’s probably some federal agent hunting crooks on the lam. This resort would be like flypaper for horny criminals.
"So Cass, I hear you've been spending a lot of time with the locals?"
"Yeah, I've made some friends," Cass replied, trying not to sound defensive at the prying question.
"How are they feeling, you know about the resort and things in general? I've heard there's been trouble?"
"Nothing I've noticed, but I'm too busy with my boyfriend to listen to the gossip."
"So there is talk then?"
Cass put down the glass she was washing, "Why is a travel writer so interested in local politics? I thought you just wrote about cheap buffets and places to get Seaweed Wraps?"
"I'm just a big picture kind of guy I guess," He replied innocently.
"Uh huh,"
A nasal female voice cut off their witty banter, "Hi, can I have four shots of gold please? Bill it to cabana seven." She was Fawn, a pretty young girl with long brown hair and a great pair of natural tits. Cass could tell because she'd abandoned her bikini top three tequilas ago. She turned to Jack, "Hi I'm Fawn, you're really cute."
"Thank you Fawn, it's nice to meet you too." Jack replied politely.
"I'm in cabana seven with Hot Stuff Productions. I'm starring in a movie tomorrow."
"How nice for you. What's the movie?"
"First-Time Bukkake Babes #27, but we don't have enough dudes, so if a cute guy like you wanted to drop by I can get you in."
"Oh I don't know. I've never been in a movie before. I'd probably forget all my lines."
"Oh you don't have to remember anything, you just, well, you know… like the other guys… it'll be fun."
Cass couldn't help eavesdropping. She could hear the uncertainty in Fawn's voice, like she was really trying to convince herself it would be fun.
"Okay, I'll try to swing by, but no promises."
"That's so cool, I'm really excited," Fawn replied grinning. She grabbed her tray of tequilas and bounced off towards the Jacuzzi.
Jack gave her a little wave, "Good luck with that." He turned back to Cass, "Guess I'll see if I can find some great story for my blog."
"That's so cool, I'm so excited!" Cass replied, mimicking Fawn.
Jack Laughed, "Careful Cass, don't mock the afflicted." With that he slipped back into the crowd.
"Travel writer my ass," Cass mumbled to herself. She glanced at the clock, smiled and immediately started cashing out. Her twelve-hour shift was over, and she had someplace to be.
Another bartender took her post and Cass made a beeline for the staff exit. She knew escaping from Stalag-Sinz wasn't easy, with management always on the prowl, trying to shanghai staff into extra shifts. Cass took a practiced detour behind the VIP Cabanas. She'd almost made it when Eric, the resort manager, appeared, blocking her path.
"Cass, where are you going?"
"Uh, out of here? It's been twelve hours Eric, I'm done."
"But it's our big night, the president of the island is making his speech in a few hours. I need everybody… including my best bartender." Eric was half pleading and half demanding.
"Well, first of all, I told you three times, grand opening or not, I had plans later tonight, and second of all, he's a Prime Minister… not a President."
"Oh it's the same thing."
"No, the PM is appointed by the standing legislature whereas the president is elected by popular vote… and I'm still leaving, good night." She slipped past him before he got any mor
e whining in. With Eric shaken off Cass continued towards the staff exit.
She rounded the corner near cabana seven and paused. Fawn was in the Jacuzzi making out with some lucky college boy while a few other guests lounged on the nearby deck chairs. They seemed to be ignoring Fawn's little play-date. They were probably too jaded by wild group action and other kinky stuff to care about a college boy and a hick town girl. But Cass found it intriguing. She was a voyeur at heart. If she'd continued on her initial post military drinking and partying trajectory she might have actually have graduated to become a full blown sex and drug addled degenerate.
What really got her attention was Fawn's demeanor. Without a crowd and cameras she was just a shy girl making out with a cute boy. Cass couldn't help thinking that after her descent into porn stardom Fawn might someday look back on this, fondly remembering the nights when she was just a regular girl.
Cass watched as they kissed, awkwardly at first, before quickly falling into a rhythm. The lucky guy moved down, tasting Fawn's ample breasts. The new club was already living up to its name. He dabbed his tongue on her nipples, then began to suck on them alternately. Fawn cooed softly, loving the attention.
Cass took a step back into the shadows so she could enjoy the show more discreetly. The couple were a little drunk, a little clumsy, but very cute. Although she couldn’t see it, she knew Fawn was stroking his cock beneath the water. It was probably rock hard already, she knew, getting a little turned on herself.
The college boy hopped up, and sat on the edge of the Jacuzzi. Cass had been right; he was fully erect and ready to go. He had apparently lost his shorts a little earlier, assuming he had been wearing any to start with. Fawn pushed her head between his legs, kissing his inner thighs while stroking him. She slowly ran her tongue along his shaft, never breaking eye contact. She was definitely studying to be a star.
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